


Once

by nimini_ninoni



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Mental Illness, So much angst, Vomit, You're in for a wild ride, boyfriends being boyfriends, boyfs, just mentioned, like at all, little bit at the end, not graphic, puking, trigger warning anxiety, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimini_ninoni/pseuds/nimini_ninoni
Summary: Once, Jeremy asks Michael what it feels like to have anxiety.





	Once

**Author's Note:**

> This is your final warning! There's alot of talk of anxiety in this whole fic! If this stuff triggers you please don't read! Be safe.

Once, Jeremy asks Michael what it feels like to have anxiety. 

“It’s like asking Christine out but you never ask” he says. 

“Why can’t you ask?” 

“Because something’s holding you back.” 

“Something?” 

“Yeah” he says, mindless. “Something.” 

“Oh” is all Jeremy replies. It’s clear he doesn’t really understand, but that’s fine. Jeremy doesn’t need to understand. 

 

-

 

Once, Michael feels the floor fall away beneath his feet as he walks the crowded halls. He feels Jeremy’s clammy hands on his hoodie, feels his iron grip around his arms and holds on like a lifeline. 

_ I’m falling  _ is all he thinks, his mind chanting it like a mantra. The walls keep closing in and darkness seeps into his vision. He hears voices all around him and all he can do is breathe except he can’t. Michael feels a thousand weights on his chest and his vision swirling before him. He should be passing out right about now, but his consciousness refuses to leave and it’s nauseating and he feels his knees collapse onto the hard floor. 

Someone (please be Jeremy please let it be Jeremy) ushers him into a quiet place. He hears the words “calm” and “breathe” but neither of which are coming to him at the moment. Michael wants to throw up but he doesn’t want to look gross in front of whoever is here right now but it’s so god damn noisy and he knows it’s all in his brain and he doesn’t want to think or see or do anything. 

He holds his head as the contents of today’s lunch rise up his throat and explode out of him. He holds his stomach as he sinks slowly onto the floor again. It’s cold this time, he can feel it through the rips in his jeans. 

He doesn’t feel better, just gross and disgusting but there’s a warm hand on his back and a familiar voice in his ear and he shivers with every breath but at least he’s breathing. 

“Jer…” he says, voice weak and raspy. 

“I’m here” Jeremy sighs with happy relief. “I’m right here” he holds out his hand and Michael hangs onto the only solid thing in his spinning world right now. 

 

-

 

Once, Michael doesn’t have a bad day the whole week. He doesn’t have any episodes for a full month. 

Once, Michael is totally fine. 

Until he isn’t. 

He doesn’t realize how clammy and then sweaty his palms have become as they grip his controller, condensation seeping between his fingers. He doesn’t realize how much his skin is stretching across his knuckles as the usual instincts of the game just doesn’t come to him. Michael only knows that he’s losing this game and failing his one true friend and failing at life and everything is falling apart puzzle piece after puzzle piece. 

It feels like falling into the dark abyss again but  _ why??  _ Michael doesn’t understand why at all. Nothing bad happened this month or this week or this day or this hour but he still feels like a wind up toy raring to go but there’s a tiny little something stuck somewhere in his mechanism and he can’t seem to progress. Not at this game, not at his life, not in anything. 

“Michael!” Jeremy’s worried face swims into his vision. Michael drops his controller with a clatter and his fingers are aching. “Michael…” he says again, soft and familiar. Michael wants to listen to that tone forever. He doesn’t even realize the game’s been paused for a while now. 

“You’ve been on a losing streak” Jeremy says sadly and Michael really wants to know how horrible of a best friend must he be if his best friend is this sad because of him. 

“I-” and the wind up toy, the dark abyss, the tension coiling and coiling and ready to go, they explode all at once into tears streaming down his face. He feels Jeremy gasp in shock one minute and the next there are strong arms around him. 

“I can’t-”

“Shhh” Jeremy rubs at his back like he always does and tells him to breathe in that soothing tone. Michael doesn’t hold him back. He cries and sobs uncontrollably into Jeremy’s shirt. It’s gonna stain and his hands are too sweaty and painful and do best friends even do this kinda thing or is this too gay??? Will Jeremy mind???

“Hey” Jeremy says, pulling away. Michael misses that warmth already but still hands are on his shoulders, steadying him from swaying. “Hey” he says again, but softer. 

“Hey” Michael sniffles back and wipes at his face with the heels of his palms. He feels Jeremy’s fingers brushing away his tears and even then, the touch is too sensitive, but Michael relishes in reality for a bit. 

There are warm arms around him again, this time pulling him in until cheek meets chest. Jeremy hums something from their childhood but Michael can’t pinpoint what, exactly. He lets the static run his mind, lets the music flow through the room, lets Jeremy cradle him into a false sense of calm. He turns his mind off until it’s running on autopilot. He lets a few more tears slide, then stops reacting completely. 

“Hey” Jeremy whispers just loud enough to hear. Michael mumbles into the air. 

“I...You’re…” he stumbles on his words while Michael clings onto every one. “You’re my favourite person” Jeremy finally decides. “I’ll always be here when the world’s crashing around you. Okay?” 

And Michael nods against Jeremy’s shirt. He nods and nods and tries his best not to cry again. 

 

-

 

Once, Michael is in a bathroom.

Once, Michael is alone, in a bathroom. 

For once, Jeremy isn’t there when the world crashes around him. 

Only once, has Michael had to deal with hell alone. 

And once, is more than enough. 

 

-

 

Once it starts, it doesn’t stop. It never stops, but Michael’s gotten a lot better at controlling it.

But sometimes, he doesn’t want to control it.

He’s all angry shouts and violent punches now and Jeremy doesn’t know how to do this at all. 

“Michael!” he screams, but it falls on deaf ears. He gets up and places a hand on his best friend’s shoulder but it’s slapped away immediately and Michael’s head snaps back around and the look in Michael’s eyes. 

God, the look in those eyes. It wasn’t Michael he saw. Jeremy didn’t know who this was and it scared him. This wasn’t a wind up toy anymore. Michael was a hurricane and Jeremy found himself trapped in the eye of the storm. He should run. Every bone and nerve and fiber of Jeremy was telling him to run while he still could, adrenaline pumping through his veins at hyper speed, but he wasn’t going to. Michael had been there through the play, the SQUIPs, the screaming and explosions. He wasn’t going to let him down now. 

“Michael!” he screams louder this time and Michael turns the rest of his body around, staring Jeremy down like prey. He’s afraid, they both were. Jeremy could hear it in his breaths and feel it in his shivering fists. But what was there to be afraid of? 

Jeremy steels himself and shouts “What’s gotten into you?!” and Michael is stunned. Almost immediately, Jeremy can feel his nerves shrinking up again. He wraps his arms around Michael’s neck and tugs way too forcefully, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Jeremy lands sitting on one of the beanbags with Michael’s face in his chest and his arms around his neck. He doesn’t know what to do, so he does what he can. 

“Shhh” he says, using the softest voice he finds. He runs a hand up Michael’s neck and into his hair, playing with the curls that fall into his face. He lets his other hand travel until it meets Michael’s shaking one and grasps it until it stops. It doesn’t, so Jeremy holds on. 

Michael breathes into his chest. It’s hot and it tickles and Jeremy just feels so  _ bad  _ because he could do so much  _ more  _ but Michael feels so fragile and small right now he’s afraid anything he do now might just make the situation worse. 

And then he hears it. The breaths become shorter, more raggard. He feels something hot and wet spread across his chest. This was the Michael he was familiar with. 

This was the Michael he failed. 

He interlaces their fingers and grips the hand harder. Jeremy doesn’t know if what he’s gonna do next is going to be effective. He doesn’t know if Michael will recoil is shock or disgust or possibly both. Jeremy just doesn’t know the outcome, but he knows Michael. He leans forward until he’s at the crown of Michael’s head and plants a long, warm kiss there. 

The breaths hitch. Jeremy continues downwards. He leaves kisses blooming from Michael’s crown into his bangs until he can’t reach any further. Until Michael looks up at him with tears spilling from the corners of his eyes and blush spreading across his face. 

Silently, Jeremy presses a kiss on to Michael’s forehead. He blinks for a moment and lets the blush spread all the way to his ears. And Jeremy says “Hey.” 

“Hey” Michael says back, breathless. 

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot I’ve been a bad player two I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorr-”

Michael hauls himself upwards and presses his lips up and holds on to Jeremy’s shirt collar for dear life. Jeremy doesn’t know, doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t think, doesn’t want to either. In the quiet of Michael’s basement and in the warmth of Michael’s grasp, Jeremy sinks into the kiss and lets himself sink into it as deep as he can.  

 

-

 

Once, Jeremy asks his boyfriend what anxiety feels like. He still doesn’t really understand, but he doesn’t need to.

All he needs is the knowledge to keep this boat afloat. 

He’s done it more than once. 

He’ll do it once, twice, three times and more.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever stop throwing all my feelings into Michael;;;; HA, unlikely. But really I love these boys so much they've taken over my life and I welcome them with open arms. Also special thanks to my favourite person for helping me thru the motions of anxiety and talking bmc to me daily aaa ily so much man


End file.
